Hong Kong Day I.

I haven’t seen the veins in my feet since Saturday night, before we flew out of the States. Fourteen hours of flight rolled straight into a day of walking and eating will do that to me, I guess. Swell my feet and cause them to throb and look like sausages when I try on sandals…Thankfully, this morning, evidence of my tendons came back. Good timing, as Omidski tells me “Veins are in this year.”

Traveling like a pro.I’m out here with enough gadgetry to open a small shop: Billiam’s SLR, my PowerShot. My iPhone (left in Airplane Mode because I’m not stupid) and my iPod Touch. My MacBook and a mobile phone that we’re splitting amongst us. It sounds excessive (especially when I spell it out like that, Geez), but it’s all because I really like to catalog my trips. Having Internet access gives me no excuse not to immediately update Facebook, Twitter, Flickr, and theMaykazine. Being the foreigner dropped among a strange population of people also gives me a lot of inspiration for simple observation. I’ve also got a constant monologue running in the back of my head that it’s okay to take photos of complete strangers because it’s interesting and new – And also it will provide great fodder for the Moxsie blog and MADE Jewelry.

Food fanaticism.
So far Brooklyn, Mindy Knows, Omidski, and I have done nothing but eat and shop, and in these activities we have been most successful. In terms of eating, I had to call up the flight attendant for a cup of Cathay Pacific cup noodles, and my head’s been reeling in all the options for filling up on my favorite Asian pastries. (Pics from Likey Bakery down the street tomorrow! ME LIKEY.) Delicious, spongey yellow cake (that I ate half of even though there were eight other people at our dim sum table) below. We had some amazing xiao long bao, so even if I had to suddenly fly back to SFO right this minute, I’d be content with my trip. The skin was thin but didn’t leak my favorite soup. Kudos to the chefs! Foodspotting here is going to be great!

Boosting the global economy.
It’s true, what they say about the shopping here. Every subway station is a mall, so our first place of monetary exploitation was the Causeway Bay and Times Square shops. I think I’ve been doing very well in being highly analytical about my purchases, taking notes of the things that I think might give me the greatest deal of buyers’ remorse before I approach counters. I’m trying not to buy anything from stores that are in the U.S., even though I know the Asian market is bound to have some stuff that I won’t be able to find in the States. I’m just that snobby and want to pretend to be one-of-a-kind. I did splurge on one item, though, and it was pretty easy to rationalize.

It was half off, making it less than the gift I bought for Billiam (which I am so excited to reveal to him!).

No sales tax.

They fit and were surprisingly comfortable. Just the fact that I was able to try them on was a perk, because I’ve only been able to gather information about these shoes online.

…The color is pretty. The exact pair I got is the “pearl wine” Three Strap, the perfect choice of footwear for whenever I’m bound to catch Alice in Wonderland in the theater. (Also on my Alice-specificwish list, the Disney Alice in Wonderland x Urban Decay eye color palette. Only $52 for sixteen colors, two eye liners, Primer Potion, and a throwback to pop-up books? Trying real hard not to order it right now.)

When I shop while traveling, I do not waste time on souvenirs. If I wanted cheap crap I would buy a 25-cent bag of ramen. I also don’t buy counterfeit shit, because hey, do I look like I support terrorism? I don’t get the pride of purchasing (even less so, showing off) knockoffs. I came here to eat, man.

Culture Shock: Hong Kong edition.
Being in an Asian country (as opposed to being in the Bay Area – Do I need to point that out?) hasn’t hit me yet. Omidski’s been having a Hell of a time keeping track of us Asian girls, but of course his tall Persian frame sticks out like a sore thumb. This isn’t to say that there aren’t non-Asians in Hong Kong, we just happen to fill the place in droves. When I walk by the aspiring Hong Kong pop star boys with their spikey hair and awful-by-American-standards teeth, I wonder if I could pass for a resident here. My general feeling is no, that I’m too wide of an Asian girl to look like I run around these streets every day, but I am somewhat flattered and bewildered when salespeople speak to me in Cantonese.